


You're a Sinner, I Don't Care

by TheDirtyBirdie-Archive (TheDirtyBirdie)



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, First Time, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Underage Sex, Vaguely Canon Adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDirtyBirdie/pseuds/TheDirtyBirdie-Archive
Summary: Tony wants to be a good man, he really, really does, but, he wants Peter just a little bit more.





	You're a Sinner, I Don't Care

**Author's Note:**

> **PLEASE NOTE:** though both characters are consenting, the actual verbal consent and negotiation in this story is _extremely dub/non-con_ and not at all how anyone should _ever_ treat consent in real life.
> 
> Alright, I wrote this story impulsively last night, put it up for like 5 minutes before deleting it because I realized it was in slightly too rough of shape for human consumption. The consequences of writing at about 45% consciousness, oops. So, I've revised it a little, and here it is! Hope you enjoy, dirtybirds.
> 
> Peter is 17, making this [legal in the state of New York](https://www.ageofconsent.net/states/new-york), and as per usual I didn't have any particular iteration of the characters or canon in mind, so picture whichever you like best and don't have any high expectations as far as lining up with exact canon goes. I love Tony, but I'm gonna be a little mean to him.
> 
> Title is from [_Erotic City_](https://open.spotify.com/track/14TRnDQpggU8mpAzQ4Y3GL?si=d5aDkKt2QlO2JCeC7aNdxg) by Prince, which I listened to on repeat while writing this because I am a huge goober.

 

Tony is fully, painfully, glaringly cognizant of the fact that he is not a good man, thank you very much.

He drinks too much, he's somehow both wildly arrogant and deeply insecure, he's not all that personable once you get past the PR face, he has the emotional coping skills of a thimble, and despite his best efforts, he still manages to mar everything and everyone he touches with a trail of blood.

So, yeah. Tony doesn't need anyone else telling him what a fuck up he can be, he's perfectly aware.

But he's trying.

And, speak- or rather, think- of the devil and he shall appear, one of the various ways in which Tony has been trying, and arguably the one he’s most sincerely proud of, choses that moment to let himself into the workshop, allowing Tony a happy distraction from this latest unwanted bout of introspection.

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” Peter’s smile is as bright as it always is when Tony’s around and although he’d never admit it out loud, it always brightens his spirits to see. Tony swivels around fully on his chair, leaning on the workbench to his side so he can give Peter his full attention as he hops up onto it.  
“Hey, kid. What’ve you got for me?” Tony asks, looking to where Peter is already digging through his backpack. He looks like he’s doing his best to bite back a smile as he pulls out a large, thick, sealed envelope and Tony already knows what it is.  
“You’re sure you don’t want to do this with your aunt?” Peter shakes his head, a little shy.  
“She’s still at work, I don’t wanna wait and... I want to show this to you anyways, so…” He trails off, leaving the envelope on the table between them for tony to grab.  
“You, impatient?” Tony teases as he picks it up and flips it around, undeniably feeling more than a little swell of pride on Peter’s behalf at the MIT logo stamped proudly on the front. “Seems totally out of character.” Peter’s not even pretending to be bothered by Tony’s words, just watching eagerly while he carefully tears the envelope open at the top to pull out the thick papers inside.

He pretends to read them carefully for a few seconds longer than he really has to, just to torture the kid. Tony had known he was getting in since before applications had even been on Peter’s radar. Peter is pretty much vibrating on the workbench with the effort of staying silent while Tony ‘reads’ the letter.  
“Well, would you look at that. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it a little early for this to be here?”  
“Yes!” Peter exclaims, huge smile, scooting closer to Tony. “I got early acceptance, can you believe it, Mr. Stark?” He can. “I couldn’t have done it without you-”  
“Now, that’s just not true. We both know that, kid. You’re more than smart enough to have done this on your own, earlier, even.” Peter just rolls his eyes.  
“Well, without your ‘scholarship’, then-” And, Tony does feel a little heat rise to his cheeks, at that. They both know the scholarship Tony is providing Peter with didn’t actually exist until he’d _met_ Peter, and decided pretty much instantly that he couldn’t see that potential go to waste.

“MIT has need based admissions, kid.”  
Peter throws his head back with a great and dramatic sigh, before leveling Tony with a glare that still can’t quite hide his glee at the letter in Tony’s hands.  
“I’m _trying_ to thank you.”  
“I know, kid, but you don’t have to. You could’ve done this on your own.”  
“Yeah,” Peter agrees easily, which- rare. “But I didn’t _have_ to.” And the look he gives Tony is so sincerely, so earnestly grateful that he really can’t help getting choked up, just a little. He does his best to hide it but he’s pretty sure Peter catches on anyways, when the hell he let the little shit figure him out so well, he’s not sure.

“So,” Peter scoots a little closer, again, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He still gets flustered around Tony, now and then, but not sincerely nervous, not for a long time, now. “Can I? Thank you, I mean?” There’s… something off, something setting off tiny, red flags in the back of Tony’s mind, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. Peter is worrying a lip between his teeth, looking up at him from under those fucking lashes which- shouldn’t even be possible, considering he’s above him, right now, but the kid has puppy dog eyes down to a damn science and no amount of exposure has managed to make Tony immune.

“If you must.” He says, despite his better judgment.

A small grin appears at the edge of his mouth and he moves to slip down from the workbench, except, instead of hopping to his feet his knees are coming down on either side of Tony’s thighs and- oh.

Oh. No.

Tony has seen this movie, he knows how it goes. More interns have tried to bang Tony Stark than he can count, and more have succeeded than he cares to admit, he just never considered the kid would be one of them. He hadn't even thought about it.

...Well.

He hadn't felt good about thinking about it, and that's what really counts.

Tony is off his chair in seconds, sending the kid sprawling to the floor as he tries to put distance between them in his frazzled haste.

“Okay. I said you didn’t need to thank me, didn’t I? I heard myself say that. I’m sure of it. That definitely means you don’t have to thank me _like that_ .” He’s got his hands out in front of him, half defensive, half in an effort to convey a sort of no-go gesture.  
“But Mr. Stark,” Peter begins, having pushed himself up from his messy sprawl, still half reclined and looking up at him with eyes that are all too innocent for what he’d just tried to do. “I know I don’t _have_ to thank you, I _want_ to thank you.” There’s a smirk playing at his lips and although it can’t have been more than a few seconds, there’s no trace of the nervousness from before. _Almost_ as if it had been a put-on. Funny.

“No.” He tries again. He’s pretty proud of the way that his voice comes out, firm and authoritative, if he does say so himself, despite the fact that he’s currently suffering an internal meltdown. Is this his fault? Has he managed to… lead Peter on, somehow? He’d looked, he _knows_ he’d looked, but he’d been so, so careful to keep himself in check. He had zero intentions of once again fucking up one of so few good things in his life that he’d done nothing to deserve in the first place, and yet, here he was.

“I know I haven’t always been the most scrupulous in the past, but jailbait _really_ isn’t my thing.”  
“I’m not jailbait. Seventeen is the age of consent in the state of New York, I checked.” He doesn’t even have the decency to look the least bit ashamed of himself. One could argue he even looks proud.  
“You checked. Of course you did. Great.”

Before he can think of what to say next, Peter must decide he’s not going to give him the chance. He pushes himself up and advances on Tony. He’s the furthest looking thing from intimidating, but Tony finds himself backing up until he hits the wall, anyways, then there’s nowhere left to retreat.  
“Come on, Mr. Stark.” And the way he says it- christ. Why can’t anything in Tony’s life ever be easy? Just once. “I know you watch me.” Guilt punches through Tony with crushing force. So this is his fault. His efforts failed, just like they always did, and now this was just another good thing Tony Stark had ruined.

His feelings must show because Peter’s tone gentles.

“Hey, I also know you try not to, you know?” He reaches out tentatively for Tony’s shoulder, a sharp contrast to the confidence from a moment ago. “That’s the whole reason I’m okay with it. Looking is just… human. I know you’d never expect anything from me.” Peter slowly slides the hand up his shoulder, to curl around his neck and reel himself in closer to Tony, waiting to see if he’ll be rebuffed. He’s not, and the other hand comes up to circle his wrist. They’re not quite pressed together, but he can feel the body heat radiating off of him. “You’re not a bad man, Tony. I wouldn’t be here if you were.” The use of his name strikes a nerve, it’s a moment of give in this game Peter’s been trying to lure him into, and he shouldn’t, he really, really shouldn’t, but he grabs hold of it and he _takes_.

Gripping tight at Peter’s waist, he pulls him hard against him and presses their mouths together so hard it hurts. Peter makes a ragged sound into the kiss when Tony bites at his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Peter’s hands are gripping at Tony’s shoulders hard enough to bruise while Tony’s are cherishing. Stroking softly over his jaw, through his hair, a direct contrast to the aggressive rhythm of his kiss. He knows he’s putting too much anger into it. Anger at himself, at Peter, at the situation, but he just can’t help it. Something inside him has snapped, but his hands still hold Peter like he’s something that needs to be protected by Tony, rather than from him.

When Peter pushes forward, grinding their hips together, it’s enough of a shock to make Tony push him away. He puts his hands up to start- fuck, he doesn’t even know what, but it doesn’t matter either way because he doesn’t get far.

Peter, the little shit, webs his hands to the wall before he can get a word out.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Tony bites out, only a little dazed, still somewhat angry, and a lot aroused. When he turns back to Peter, he’s not sure what he’s expecting to see on his face, but it turns out it’s nothing at all, because Peter isn’t standing in front of him anymore, he’s sinking to his knees and reaching for his belt and- oh, god.  
“It’s alright.” Peter soothes, looking up at him with way too earnest an expression for what he’s got planned. “I know you feel weird about the fact that I’m a virgin-” Which, shockingly, hadn’t actually crossed Tony’s mind up til now, but it was certainly at the forefront of his thoughts, now. Weird isn’t exactly the way he’d choose to qualify his feelings about it. “But I’ve sucked a lot of cock. I’m good at it, I swear. I’ll be good.” And-that’s-well, it’s a lot to take in.

“That’s not exactly the issue here, kid.” Fuck. Something inside him cringes. Really not the time to call him that. “I know.” Peter replies, and there’s that gentle tone, again, somehow as sincere as ever even with his fingertips dancing over Tony’s belt and-oh, god, trailing down the seam of his jeans. “I get it, you know.” He says, finally, actually undoing Tony’s belt. He should really, really be doing more to put a stop to this. Any second now, he’s going to get right on that.  
“You need an excuse, right? A reason to tell yourself you don’t actually want this as bad as you do?” Tony’s heart is beating hard. Peter nods towards the webbing trapping Tony’s hands as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips his fly. “There it is.”

Yeah. Tony is still wondering when Peter learned to read him _this_ well, because he’s not wrong. In fact, he’s exactly right and they both know it. They’re in tony’s lab, where he has JARVIS, his suit, and several other multi-purpose, voice activated robots at his command. There’s about a million ways he could get out of this webbing and Peter wouldn’t stop him. Peter is giving him a free pass to pretend that none of what’s happening right now is on him, lay all the blame on his shoulders, instead. It’s super tempting, but he doesn’t actually get the chance to come to a conscious decision about it because Peter’s hands are pulling down his jeans and briefs and his hand is wrapping around his cock and- yeah. That puts a pretty efficient stop to his thoughts when he looks down to see Peter staring up at him from under those stupidly pretty eyelashes with a smile on his face and Tony’s cock about three inches from his mouth.

He licks his lips, leaving them shiny and wet, and leans in to give the head a messy, open mouthed kiss, all without breaking eye contact, before pulling back with a coy smile. Jesus. He’s definitely trying to kill him. There’s absolutely nothing left to be coy about, this is only for Tony’s suffering, he’s sure of it.

As Tony is starting to get unfortunately accustom to, Peter must read his thoughts on his face, because he lets out a delighted laugh.

“Sorry.”  
“Why am I not convinced?” Tony responds, voice only half grounded.

A smile still plays at the corners of Peter’s mouth as he drags his lips, open mouthed, up and down the side of Tony’s cock, eyes not leaving Tony’s face the entire time. He stops over the head, sucking it briefly into his mouth before pulling off with a loud ‘pop’ to smile up at him, wide and all too inviting. He does it again, Tony is pretty sure he may actually die if he doesn’t _really_ get his cock in that pretty mouth soon.

Unbothered by his very apparent need, Peter begins making his way across the other side of Tony’s cock before coming to nose at the base. Slipping down to his balls and lapping at them carefully, he lets himself get messy, sucking them gently, one at a time, into his mouth, leaving a mess of spit everywhere while Tony stares down. He’s pretty sure he’s grinding his teeth into dust with the effort being expended to stop himself from just doing _anything_ to keep this moving along. He’s also pretty sure that’s the idea, here. The glint in Peter’s eyes tells him this torture definitely isn’t incidental.

Finally, he pulls off and leans in to work him properly. He wets his palms with his tongue, which really shouldn’t be as much of a turn on as it proves to be, before bringing one up to massage carefully at Tony’s now-neglected balls. He lets a groan escape him, at that, because really, what’s left to lose. Still, he’s careful not to let himself look away, because he doesn’t want to miss a moment of what Peter is doing.

He drags his tongue up the underside to Tony’s cock, sloppy and slow, and once he reaches the head of it he sucks it into his mouth with hollowed out cheeks, bringing his other hand up to wrap around the base and it’s _so fucking good_ . He’d be hard pressed to think of a blowjob that was truly, objectively _bad_ , but there really is something to knowing it’s Peter’s eager lips that are wrapped around his cock, Peter’s tongue wrapping around him, that gets him going.

Slowly, Peter finds a steady pace, head bobbing up and down Tony’s cock in time with the pumps of his fist, alternating between gazing up at him and closing his eyes to concentrate which- fuck. Yeah. That’s more than a bit hot. Not to mention, Tony’s not entirely sure he’s ever seen someone managed to look so pleased with themselves with a cock in their mouth.

For reasons Tony doesn’t entirely grasp, Peter’s hands leave him to slide over his hips. He keeps on not understanding it until Peter grips his hips hard and uses them to force himself deeper onto Tony’s cock and-oh. Fuck. He can’t help it, he thrusts forward, sliding the rest of the way down his throat. It’s a knee-jerk reaction and as soon as he does it he pulls back, expecting Peter to pull off, choking. Instead, he has his hips yanked forward again, and when he doesn’t quite get the message, Peter pinches him. He jerks forward again and Peter _moans_ , Tony’s cock so deep in his throat that he can feel the vibration of it.

It takes approximately no time, after that, for Tony to get onboard. He starts fucking into his throat properly and it’s- Christ. It’s almost too much to handle. His heart is rattling in his chest at the sight and feeling of it. Peter’s eyes are watering when he looks up at him, his cheeks a hot red, and he can _see_ the bulge of his cock disappearing down his throat.

He can feel his balls tightening, the heat of impending release beginning to build in his abdomen. He’s panting, imagining what Peter’s going to look like, maybe with Tony’s come on his face, maybe swallowing it all down. He doesn’t particularly seem like he’d mind either outcome, when Peter pulls off completely with a particularly evil smile and closes his fingers tight around the base of his cock, stopping him from getting there.

“What-no-why?! Why would you do that, now?” It’s not the most eloquent Tony has ever been, but he’s, quite understandably, fucking distressed.

Peter is smiling that same, coy smile, but with swollen, come-slicked lips, and it’s making Tony’s knees seriously weak.

“I was really hoping you’d come inside me.”  
“I was _about to_ .” Tony absolutely does not whine. Peter laughs.  
“No, I mean I want you to fuck me.” He says, and it lands in Tony’s psyche like a suckerpunch. He gives Tony his very best puppy-dog eyes, which is just- so wrong. Given everything. Not to mention, so unnecessary, at this point. He’s already well and truly done for. “Please?” Peter asks with a fucking _Pout_ and, christ. That is it.

“JARVIS, hands.” Peter’s eyes go wide.  
“ _Right away sir.”_ The A.I. responds, and then Tony’s hands are being freed, quickly and neatly, with a laser from- somewhere.  
“I thought you-” Peter starts, but Tony descends on him the moment he’s free, cutting him off with a deep, messy kiss. He pulls back and wastes no time kicking off his pants and yanking Peter up to sit on his spayed legs, pulling both of their shirts up and off off and then gripping Peter’s face, stilling him just long enough to speak seriously, for a moment.  
“If we’re doing this, I’m not hiding from it.”

He’s not positive what changes in Peter’s face, it feels like a great injustice that somehow, despite Peter’s obvious tendency to wear his feelings on his face, he can still read Tony so much better than Tony can read him, but he’s pretty sure he can see something like relief in his eyes. It certainly feels that way when he drags Tony in to kiss him, a little more desperate, more sincere. Despite all of the frantic, fucked up energy inside him, Tony is fully aware of the fact that this is Peter’s first time, and he won’t do him the disservice of allowing himself to let Peter think for a second that Tony doesn’t want this as bad as he does, consequences be damned.

They stay like that a while, trading messy, slow kisses. Tony lets himself indulge a little, taking the time to cool down so he won’t finish like he’s the teenager here the moment he gets inside Peter.

Eventually, he tips Peter carefully back onto the floor, kneeling between his legs, and reaches down to open his pants.

“This is gonna be hell on my knees.” He complains, but he’s grinning as he says it, and Peter just laughs up at him from the floor. Finally the one looking a little dazed.  
“I could ride you.” He suggests dreamily. Yeah, trying to kill Tony, for sure. “That might help.” Tony groans as he grabs the waistband of his pants and boxers to tug them down and off of Peter’s slender, toned legs simultaneously. He tosses them to the side and slides his hands over Peter’s legs, looking his fill at the boy all spread out in front of him.  
“Tempting, but after what you pulled, I think this is the way to go. I’ll suffer through it.”

They share a laugh before Tony drops down to kiss him again, one arm braced by Peter’s shoulders, the other still sliding over the back of his thigh as his ankle hangs over the back of his neck, which- Jesus. Flexible. He begins kissing down Peter’s jaw when it occurs to him that they’re definitely going to need lube and a condom. Quite possibly the _only_ things this workshop does not have ready in case of emergency. Shit.

He places a kiss to Peter’s clavicle before pulling back, making to get up.

“I’ll be right back.” He moves to stand but Peter’s leg holds him in place.  
“No, jean pocket.” Tony sighs as he Peter relaxes again and he reaches for his jeans, dragging them over to dig through the pockets until he emerges with two foil packets.  
“Optimistic.” He teases. Peter smirks, at that.  
“Just wait.”

Tony doesn’t have to wait long, he tears open the packet of lube and Peter pulls his legs up to reveal an already stretched and wet hole.

“Jesus.” Tony chokes out. At this, Peter finally, _finally_ looks slightly embarrassed.  
“I just- I wasn’t sure if that would be enough.” He gestures to the packet in Tony’s hands, and he is once again reminded of how fucking young Peter is. The fact that he really hasn’t done this before. He sets the packet down carefully, knowing the liquid inside is thick enough not to spill out, and leans down and over to brush a hand through his hair and kiss him as thoroughly as he knows how.

Peter moans into the kiss and he can feel his whole body shiver against him where they’re pressed together.

When he pulls away nothing has changed, Peter is still young, still a virgin, but there’s no shred of hesitation or doubt in him and Tony knows it.

He sits back on his heels and grabs the packet, finally squeezing some lube out over Peter’s hole, massaging it gently over him so it won’t drip down. Peter’s already panting at the feeling of it, hard as a rock and dripping onto his own stomach. Tony isn’t going to rush, but he’s thankful that with Peter’s prep he isn’t going to have to linger too long, either, since he suspects that Peter isn’t going to be holding on too, too long.

He wishes things were a bit different. Wishes he could lay Peter out in his bed and fuck him slow, make him come again and again, really, truly ring all the pleasure his body has to offer. But that’s not something he can do. They’re here, now, and this moment is all they’re going to have, so he’s going to do whatever Peter needs him to do to make this the best it can be right now.

He slips two fingers into Peter easy, and searches. Peter is pushing back against his hand, writhing on his fingers, as Tony massages him from the inside. He slips a third finger in quick, and almost immediately brushes over the bundle of nerves he’s been looking for. Peter melts underneath him, shivering all over and the sight of it makes Tony ache and throb with need.

He spends a moment longer stretching Peter out, careful to avoid his sweet spot for fear of making him come too soon, despite Peter’s whines, before removing his fingers. He tears open the condom wrapper and slides it on before pumping the remaining lube over himself.

He pulls Peter in close by the thighs so they’re pressed together, and braces himself up over him with one hand while he reaches down to grip his cock with the other, guiding it against Peter’s body.

“Come on, hurry up.” Peter whines, leg bucking against Tony’s back, and it’s so stupidly familiar he can’t help the laugh that escapes him.  
“Impatient.” He teases.

Then he pushes himself inside. He means to go slowly, he does, but Peter’s legs urge him forward and-fuck. The kid is strong. A hell of a lot stronger than him, and if he pushes, Tony’s going. He opens up for him, so easy, so ready, Tony can hardly believe it. It feels like bliss. They both groan at the sensation of Tony being fully sheathed inside of him, but Peter isn’t wasting a moment.  
“Come on, come on, come on.” He’s breathing out against Tony’s mouth. “Fuck me, please, Tony. I can’t wait anymore.” And who on earth would Tony be to deny such a sweet request.

He braces himself and starts fucking up into Peter with every ounce of energy he can manage. He doesn’t go too fast, but he fucks him hard and deep. Long, strong thrusts that reach inside Peter deeper than he knew he could feel, he’s got a grip on Tony’s shoulders that’s going to last for days, he can tell already, and his legs reel Tony in hard with every thrust. Tony can’t match his strength but he tries to give it to him as good as he can, better than anyone else he fucks is going to be able to for a long, long time.

He searches, adjusting the angle of his hips until Peter cries out, hips stuttering up against Tony’s own in desperation when Tony hits that bundle of nerves. He grins and moves his mouth down the column of Peter’s neck to bite down, hard enough to leave a mark, and start pounding into him as hard as he can manage.

Peter is shaking now, hands and legs clenching and unclenching around him as Tony keeps up the most relentless pace he can manage without sacrificing the depth or accuracy of his thrusts. He’s already dangerously close to coming, but he’s determined to make Peter come, untouched besides the friction between their bodies, before he does.

He’s pulled his head down to nip at Peter’s collar bone while he pants into his skin, and one of Peter’s hands comes up to pull his hair hard enough to hurt, he can feel Peter fluttering around him and he knows he’s very, very close.

Within a handful of thrusts Peter is spilling between them, shaking all around Tony, all choked off sobs and moans, and Tony doesn’t give an inch as he fucks him through it. He slows once Peter is trembling with the aftershocks, lingering in the haze of post-orgasm bliss, and Peter must think he means to pull out because he, once again, pulls him in hard with his legs, hands coming up to bring Tony’s face back up to his.

“Keep going. Don’t pull out, please.”

Tony sinks down to kiss him.

“Wasn’t going to.” He pants out against his lips and feels Peter relax in his arms again. His hands ghost over his back as he keeps going, slower but just as deep, until he’s the one shaking, hot and cold all over as orgasm rushes through him.

The force of it, especially so long coming, takes it out of him. He collapses onto Peter with a heavy breath and feels slender arms come up to wrap around him, one hand brushing through his hair as he lets himself lie on Peter’s chest for a long moment, recovering in this little bubble away from reality they’ve created before having to get up and face what’s happened.

He won’t let it be a bad thing, not for Peter. He’ll talk about it if he wants to talk, he’ll stay quiet about it if he wants to pretend it never happened, whatever he wants, that’s what he’ll do.

He’ll even do it again, if that’s what Peter wants. He’s not sure if it’s better or worse, at this point, to hope for that particular outcome.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost feel bad for Tony, honestly. He tried. 
> 
> Find me here or [on tumblr](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/)/[twitter](https://twitter.com/dirtbirdie) if you want to drop a request or just say hello! If you're waiting on one of my other works, don't worry, this doesn't set that back at all, I'll still be posting an actual, planned work tonight or tomorrow ♥ If you're curious, you can find a teeny, tiny, vague spoiler [here](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/171289410031/so-since-im-gonna-be-posting-later-than-i).


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